My singularly unique, doubtlessly engaging, now and again amusing perceptions of travel, dogs, and life!

10/11/2010

Better Together

We've been celebrating the idea that two together are better than one for decades in rock'n'roll history. Take, for example, the 1965 tune by Marvin Gaye and Kim Weston "It Takes Two;" or the 1970 Neil Diamond hit "He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother;" or the British indie rock band Steadman’s 2003 release "Two Together." Then there are the literally dozens of albums and songs entitled "You and Me," sung by the likes of Neil Young, Alice Cooper, and LL Cool J. I especially like Jack Johnson's 2005 acoustic-styled "Better Together." One of the most recent songs to celebrate two over one is the 2009 Boys Like Girls’ "Two is Better than One." And guess where they got the name for that song? Ecclesiastes 4:9. Yup, there really is nothing new under the sun. The fact that it’s better to share life with someone rather than to live it alone was recognized thousands of years before us modern rockers so passionately, poignantly, and plaintively began espousing it. Actually, long before Solomon (or whoever) said it in Ecclesiastes, it was known that "It is not good for man to be alone" (Gen.2:18).

So what does that have to do with dogs, you might ask, since you're reading the Travelog & Dog Blog. Only this: EVEN THEY KNOW IT. That life's better together.

I became aware of my dogs' comprehension of this yesterday when I was watching TV in the basement with them. Let me set the stage. There is a door in the basement leading out to a patio. I left it standing open so I didn’t have to keep getting up when the dogs decided, every few minutes, that they liked it better outside than in and then changed their minds after they got out there. Upstairs, the garage door was open so they could go in and out through the doggie door in the kitchen. The door at the top of the basement stairs was not shut all the way, but it wasn’t standing open, either.

So there I am, watching TV downstairs. The dogs sleep quietly around me for awhile, but that can only last so long. Then one of them decides he wants to go outside. That means the other has to come along. So they both go outside through the open basement door. After watering the plants around the patio, Phoenix returns to snuggle on my lap, but Figaro doesn’t come back.

A little bit later I hear a scratch on the door at the top of the basement stairs. I extricate myself from Phoenix and he watches while I get up, ascend the stairs, push the door open, and let Figaro back downstairs. I return to watch TV with Phoenix cuddled on my lap. A few minutes later Figaro goes outside through the open basement door and doesn’t come back. Again. This time Phoenix doesn’t go with him.

After a time, I hear that irritating scratch on the door at the top of the basement stairs again. This time I don’t move. Scratch. Pause. I don’t move. Scratch. Pause. I don’t move. Scratch. Pause. Phoenix sits up and begins watching the stairs. Nothing happens. I continue to watch TV. Scratch. Pause. I don’t move. Finally Phoenix clambers off my lap, climbs the stairs, noses the door open, and both dogs come back downstairs together. It was a sweet moment. I couldn’t help but think that Phoenix had perfectly illustrated that "he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother."

Then there are the not-so-sweet moments when I’m thinking "it takes two." Such as when they are out in front of the house in the driveway for all the world to see, experimenting with mounting each other. They have no idea what they’re doing, so when I scold them, they both look at me as if to say, "What’s the prob?" If dogs could shrug their shoulders, I’m sure they’d do that in unison, too.

There is nothing like "two together" when I first let them outside in the early morning. They inevitably come across a neighborhood cat on the patio or discover a doe and her fawns in our side yard. They join their annoyingly shrill voices in a frenzy of barking and scare the intruders away. I’ll bet the neighbors appreciate not having to set their alarms for 6 a.m. Nothing like being awakened by a duet.

Certainly "two are better than one" to bark an invitation at the people walking along the street in front of our house. In case the invitees didn’t hear, the barking continues until they're out of sight. Even though their invitations are never accepted, I’m sure the dogs’ friendliness has made us the most popular family on the block, because those same people come back again and again to enjoy the dogs’ double-duty greetings.

Even at mealtime, when I feed the dynamic duo at the same time side by side and each guards his own bowl from other, they won't stay separated for long. Because Figaro always finishes first, I send him outside so Phoenix can finish his meal in peace. Fig wanders off on his own for awhile. Then when Phoenix has finished eating, I open the door to let him out. We find Fig waiting outside the door. Instead of coming in, Figaro looks at Phoenix and says in his silent dog language, "It’s you and me, pal. Let’s hit it." Figaro turns and walks away. Phoenix follows at his heels. He’s no dummy. He knows things are better together.

2 Comments

They are amazing and funny animals - what will we do for entertainment when you run out of dog stories? Or will you ever - I doubt it. There was a comedian many years ago in the movies who always had a short about animals - his tag line was Animals is the Funniest Peoples! That says it all.

It's not too difficult to figure out from the title of this Blog that I love to travel and I love my dogs, and this Blog is a tribute to both of those special parts of this divorce attorney's "other" world